


Emotions Rising

by The_Norsiest



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anxiety, Bonds, Emotions, F/F, Poetry, T’Pura, Vulcans, alternate universe- academy, mentions of Spirk, stage fright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24859759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Norsiest/pseuds/The_Norsiest
Summary: Academy Au:T’Pring attends the Academy along with her intended mate, Spock. Yet, she is fighting feelings for the girl in her literature class and unfortunately some days it’s harder to control emotions than others; like when Uhura readers “Still I Rise” during her presentation and T’Pring simply can’t take the amount of beautiful and grace thrown her way.Excerpt: “ It would have been illogical to forget such a beautiful sight as the dark haired human. Uhura’s stare always spoke of fascination and intrigue. Her cheery attitude never overshadowed her quick wit. She was intelligent, confident and her dulcet voice rang out like song every time she spoke. A wave of heat washed over T’pring as she glanced in Uhura’s direction. It was a warmth she did not fully understand...”
Relationships: T'Pring/Nyota Uhura
Comments: 11
Kudos: 25





	Emotions Rising

**Author's Note:**

> Very special thanks to T_hoe_s for being my beta reader and editor. I was having a lot of trouble with this until they helped me out. 
> 
> Also thanks to SporkandPringles of Tumblr for the prompt! It helped me get through some writers block and I appreciate it.

T’Pring moved to the front of the class, hands tightly gripping her PADD. Her inner voice recited the mantra over and over: ‘I am in control of my emotions. I am in control of my emotions. I am in control of my emotions.’ Her heartbeat was rapid as if defying her words.

Vulcans would tell you they didn’t sweat. That much the young woman had informed many ignorant persons on campus; when exercising, in locker rooms, even in the 120 degree heat of the desert during mandatory training. She had assured them that her species was beyond sweating in such trivial conditions as those. While her companions turned shades of red under the blaring sun and the sands had lashed at their faces, T’Pring hadn’t so much as glistened; to her it was nothing more than a winter’s breeze. Yet, in this moment as she made her way up to the front of the class, she felt a bead of perspiration trickle down the back of her neck and slide beneath the collar of her uniform. It was illogical and she hated that droplet with all her might… not that she felt ‘hate’ of course.

‘I am in control of my emotions.’

You wouldn’t have known it by her stoic demeanor. She strode across the room with grace and poise. Her shoulders back, her head high and she carried her family and her culture with every stride she took. She was good at that; presenting herself as powerful and in control. Within two months at the academy she’d already received several marriage proposals from hopeful young men. None of which she had accepted. The S’chn T’gai family was prominent and there was no logical reason for her to break the connection she had with Spock… or at least none she would admit.

‘I am in control of my emotions,’ her thoughts kept chiming and T’Pring convinced herself that she was.

T’Pring felt many eyes fall upon her as she moved towards the front. The most unsettling were the twelve belonging to one student alone. The Nettlevex, known for their haunting gaze, was distinct within the crowd and did not help with the wave of distress T’Pring was fighting. Finding the middle of the floor she could see the other Vulcans controlled their expressionless faces; they offered her no comfort. Neither did the Andorians who twitched their antennae and looked on in judgement and the normal smiles of the humans faded, resting into focus. That was… all but one.

Uhura rested an elbow on the metal desk and propped her face against her hand. She was leaning forward with her eyes shining, excited to hear the Vulcan woman’s presentation. T’Pring had noticed her before of course. It would have been illogical to forget such a beautiful sight as the dark haired human. Uhura’s stare always spoke of fascination and intrigue. Her cheery attitude never overshadowed her quick wit. She was intelligent, confident and her dulcet voice rang out like song every time she spoke. A wave of heat washed over T’pring as she glanced in Uhura’s direction. It was a warmth she did not fully understand and caused her to grip the PADD that much tighter. She almost broke the reading device.

‘I am in control of my emotions.’

There was no need to clear her throat as she recited the words already committed to memory:

“ _Weht el’ru mokuhlek tvai sahris ar’kadan,_ ” she said slowly, enunciating each word.

“ _Il weht el’ru mokuhlek tvai nezhak,_ ” here she added a subtle inflection of her voice, allowing it to carry across the room. 

“ _Goh ozhika mokuhlek dahsaya wuh dahkuh._ ” She paused, only a moment as the last word rang out, before moving back to her seat in the least rushed way possible; appearing a perfect picture of mental discipline.

There were a few claps from the humans but the room mostly remained silent. “Thank you T’Pring,” the professor noted before addressing the class. “Now, who can tell me about T’Pring’s piece?”

There was a short pause, as there always was when a teacher asked a question. Minds, even among so many different species,paused to see if anyone else would go first. “It would help if we understood it.” One of the Andorians stated. There was a slight chuckle from that side of the room. T’Pring, safely back in her seat, ignored them. With the anxiety of her presentation over she was better equipped to handle her emotional self, and the Andorian’s ignorant comment hardly fazed her.

“Then perhaps you should learn a language other than your own.” A stern voice piped up from the seats. It tickled the Vulcan woman’s ear, and there could be no mistaking where it came from. She looked over and saw the face of the human (the one who made her struggle to suppress her emotions) staring back. “It’s metaphorical and precise,” Uhura went on. “The hands can refer to actual hands, or be about the people they belong to. The simple task of working together for a common goal can be chaotic if it goes without guidance or,” she smiled at T’Pring, “without logic.” T’Pring’s cheeks felt of fire as the green flooded her face. “Like most Vulcan poetry, it combines philosophy with elegance. The rhythm of the speech and how it sounds is seen as a way to remember the lessons of Surak, nothing more. This particular poem is one of the most famous from the writer T’Nett of the thirteenth century, if I’m not mistaken.” 

‘I am in control of my emotions.’ T’Pring thought as her heart nearly lept from her chest. Beautiful, intelligent, well versed and most importantly, logical… what more could a woman be? 

“Thank you Uhura,” the professor said. “Would you like to be next?”

Without much insisting, the human jumped to her feet and without a PADD to use as reference, she addressed the class. “Still I Rise, by Maya Angelou,” she declared proudly.

Like the Vulcan, Nyota started off quietly, as if she were simply talking to someone standing next to her.

“You may write me down in history  
With your bitter, twisted lies,  
You may trod me in the very dirt  
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.”

Uhura gave a swing of her hips on the last word.

“Does my sassiness upset you?

She brought a hand to her chin and glanced over her raised shoulder.

“Why are you beset with gloom?  
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells  
Pumping in my living room.”

Her voice became louder by a variance of 17.3% and although she did not swing them again, T’Pring was all too focused on Uhura’s hips.

“Just like moons and like suns,  
With certainty of tides,  
Just like hopes springing high,  
Still I’ll rise.”

Her hand above her head stretched out as if reaching towards the celestial sights and T’Pring felt the tide of emotion she kept at bay pushing against the shores of her control.

“Did you want to see me broken?” 

Her fist pressed against her chest, her voice strong and defiant.

“Bowed head and lowered eyes?  
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,  
Weakened by my soulful cries?”

T’Pring felt the sensation of her arrector pili contracting, resulting in the phenomenon humans called ‘goosebumps’. 

“Does my haughtiness offend you?” 

She gave an exaggerated head bob with a serious expression, as if challenging some person who’d accused her of such behavior. 

“Don’t you take it awful hard  
‘Cause I laugh-” and here she gave a loud ‘ha’-  
“like I’ve got gold mines  
Diggin’ in my own backyard.”

“Does my sexiness upset you?”

Her eyes landed directly on T’Pring, her brows raised with the question.

“Does it come as a surprise” 

It was as if Uhura spoke directly to her and no one else.

“That I dance like I’ve got diamonds  
At the meeting of my thighs?” 

It was almost more than one Vulcan woman could take. She gripped her own hands tightly while holding the rest of her body steady. And tried in vain to control the increase in her breathing. She had to remind herself that this poem was more than the sultriness Uhura was able to portray. It was about overcoming hatred and how a group of people would not be held down by the judgement and viciousness of another. 

“Out of the huts of history’s shame I rise” 

Her voice rose as well, adding emphasis to her speech.

“Up from a past that’s rooted in pain  
I rise  
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,  
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.” 

Her voice echoing louder in the room. 

“Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise”

There was a strain in her voice at the emotional message. 

“Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear I rise”

Louder so that no one could miss the beautiful lines she recited.

“Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave. I am the dream and the hope of the slave.”

She was electric as the words rang out in the room.

“I rise  
I rise  
I rise.” 

And so did T’Pring.

While the rest of the class began to cheer and Uhura herself took a bow, the Vulcan slipped from her seat. She left her PADD and writing utensils, unable to carry anything as she gripped her hands to keep what little control she had left. As people stood up and clapped, she darted between them in the most graceful yet hurried manner. She was out the door in mere moments, and for reasons she could not define glanced over her shoulder. Uhura had spotted her, her face falling slightly amid the rush of endorphins. T’Pring could only hope she didn’t seem rude as she exited the class....

Across campus there was a little spot created for Vulcan students; a large garden of cacti and decorative stones covered by an awning should it rain. There was a box which held cushions and mats. T’Pring pulled her favorite from within its confines and placed it down in an appropriate spot. The breeze was far too chilly for her to pretend she was back home. The cacti were much too flowery and colorful for her to ever consider them a proper Vulcan species. Although she did find them pretty.

T’Pring put her legs beneath her body and sat to prepare herself for meditation. She controlled her breath, easing herself into the comfortable rhythm. She’d just closed her eyes, ready to block out the world when she felt the presence next to her.

“T’Pring,” Spock greeted, showing his hand in the salute. In his other was a mat and without request he placed it only a few feet away from hers. The two of them sat in silence for a moment before a sudden realization crossed the woman’s mind.

“You have been in the company of Jim today,” she stated factually without actually having the facts. 

Spock stiffened in his place. It was another moment before he answered, “Yes.” 

T’Pring gave the Vulcan version of a sigh, a very lengthy exhale through her nose. She’d been trying so hard to break the bond the two of them shared, yet, it clearly wasn’t working. As a half-human, Spock’s emotions were less predictable and at times harder to control. Able to sense him, T’Pring was also under their influence, though she imagined she was more capable of concealing them than he was. “Spock…” she said softly, “What would be a logical solution to our current situation?” 

In the serene garden the Vulcan man considered. His eyes trailed over an Astrophytum asteria, a star cactus. The gentle buds of it held no actual resemblance to their namesake, and yet the humans would tell you they did. “There are times,” he said solemnly, “when the logical path is not obvious and we must search for it that much more.” 

It was a very diplomatic answer, befitting of the son of Sarek, and if T’Pring had taken to human customs she might have rolled her eyes. Instead, she decided not to press further. They were without a plan to break their bond, they were both overly fond of humans they could not be with, and although their grades were immaculate, it hardly seemed their time at the academy would be anything other than challenging. 

T’Pring and Spock both made themselves comfortable and set to meditate in the garden. Hopefully, the practice would help them come to a logical solution. Deep breath in, deep breath out, over and over. Their eyes closed. 

They spoke in unison, “I am in control of my emotions.”

**Author's Note:**

> With T’Pring’s poem I was going for a Vulcan type Haiku! (It’s totally not a Haiku). However, I am not a poet, but here is the translation: 
> 
> More hands can mean fast work  
> (Weht el’ru mokuhlek tvai sahris ar’kadan)
> 
> Or more hands can mean chaos  
> (Il weht el’ru mokuhlek tvai nezhak)
> 
> Only logic can divide the two  
> (Goh ozhika mokuhlek dahsaya wuh dahkuh)


End file.
